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Truth Be Done

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Buffy quirked her lips to the side as she watched Spike dutifully test out the ropes she’d tied him to the chair with. She smiled when he glowered at her. That’s right, she thought. I know how to tie a bad boy up.

Her imagination intruded with several ideas for what to do with Spike while he was tied up, either in a chair or even better in the tub. The chains were hot.

She glared at Spike as she shoved those thoughts back into the far recesses of her mind. His eyes dropped pointedly to her chest, and she looked down and sighed. Her nipples had hardened and were visible through her blouse.

Terrific.

Willow, looking like someone had kicked her puppy—though more accurately her puppy had kicked her—was conferring with Giles over a book.

“It’s fine,” Willow said.

Giles pulled his glasses off. “I think we should completely delineate the sphere of influence for the spell.”

Spike tore his gaze away from Buffy’s chest. “Do you lot know what you’re doing? If I end up a toad, I’m going to bite you and hope you die of a bloody…blood poisoning.”

“Be nice,” Buffy said as Willow made a choked sound. Hopping to her feet, Buffy walked over to stand next to Spike, her hands on her hips.

“Or what?” he asked, looking up at her.

“Someone takes a sunny nap.”

“Sort of defeats the purpose of chaining me up if you just dust me.”

She leaned closer to him. “It’d make me feel all warm and tingly.”

“Bet I can do that without involving any sunshine.”

Buffy hated that he was probably right. She glared at him, and he glared right back.

Willow sighed. “Giles, really, it’s just the potion. I’ve said the words already. All you do is sprinkle it on the subject.” She flicked something from a cauldron towards Buffy and Spike with a fresh evergreen sprig. Little drops of water splashed onto them, and Buffy tensed along with Spike, but it didn’t hurt.

“Willow,” Buffy said, wiping at her face.

Willow was chewing on her lip. “Uh, sorry?”

“Can’t you see I’m busy provoking Spike into obvious sexual innuendos for my own enjoyment because I can’t admit I’d like to boink him?” Buffy’s stomach flipped. This was bad. Very bad. Telling all the truth bad. She didn’t look at Spike. “Okay, no one let me talk, and wow that stuff worked fast. Impressive, Willow. Everyone, ignore everything I’m going to say for…” She raised a brow at Willow.

“Four hours.”

“For the next four hours.” Buffy sat down on the floor beside Spike, her face burning. She could feel the magic winding through her. It was rattling at all the doors and windows of her mind, seeking to set everything free.

“Sorry,” Willow said again. Giles was busily polishing his glasses.

“Slayer,” Spike started with a sneer. “I had…bloody hell.”

She frowned at Spike, who looked like he was desperately trying not to talk. “You had what?”

His grimaced, fighting the spell.

“Might as well say it.” Giles sounded resigned. “I already need to wipe my memory.” He stared at Buffy as he returned his glasses to his nose.

“Buffy,” Spike said through gritted teeth. “As much fun as I’m having over you spilling dirty secrets about yours truly, I don’t want you to because it’s your mind and it’s hardly fair to have your stray thoughts and fantasies spilled out in front of your Scoobies without your consent.” He looked furious at his words. “I’m a representation of blasted death. A personification of what you dance with every night, it’s only natural to find that attractive to some degree, and you shouldn’t feel bad.” He sagged against the ropes.

“It’s very nice of you to say that.” Buffy patted his leg. “Is it the same for you? Does me being the Slayer turn you on?”

Willow and Giles made distressed noises Buffy ignored. It was their fault they were hearing this.

Spike mulled over her words. “Yes, to some degree.”

“What’s some degree? Like are we talking thirty or forty-five?”

“Three-hundred and sixty,” he mumbled.

“Huh?”

Spike heaved a huge sigh. “Just yes, if the Slayer is you. At this exact moment, I’m imagining pounding you relentlessly into the floor. I’m pretty certain I could make you scream.”  

“Huh.” Buffy discovered she couldn’t even lie to herself because that turned her on. She tried to tell herself she was being gross, but the truth spell wouldn’t let her. It wasn’t icky. It would be two consenting adults enjoying each other sexually. Nothing wrong with that. It wasn’t as if she was about to marry him. That thought getting by the truth filter in her brain was a relief. She looked up at Spike. “I don’t believe that. I’m not a screamer. And,” she added triumphantly, “I’m not going to marry you, soon.”

Spike nodded. “Wasn’t…wasn’t…thinking…I’m also not going to marry you soon.” He sighed.

“Who said anything about marriage?” Willow squeaked. She was red-faced, and Giles didn’t look so well.

Buffy worried about him. He hadn’t been his normal self lately. “Giles,” she said, trying to sound firm. “Please don’t start drinking. I need my Watcher, and you’ve really been out of it lately. And Willow, I’m very sorry about Oz, but really, he never trusted you the same after you kissed Xander and if he’s having trouble with the wolf, then he has a right to figure himself out before he decides if he wants to be with you. At least it’s not like Angel keeping me dangling while he runs around LA doing who the hell knows what.”

Buffy dropped her head into her hands. Why had Angel left? Nothing was better for her with him gone. 

“Ruddy fucking arse, Angelus is.” Spike’s voice was resigned. “Angel too, since he insists he’s a different person at the moment. That’s what he does, luv. He takes a sweet girl and breaks her. The soul just means you’re not dead.”

She couldn’t argue. How right his words were washed over her. She knew it, deep down. Angel would always leave her crying. “I think I would rather talk about my repressed sexual desire for you instead of Angel,” she mumbled.

“Me too. Do you want me to tell you about how I imagine licking your cunt would go?”

****

Spike tugged at the chains keeping him in the sodding bathtub. You mention eating out the Slayer in front of her Watcher and friend, and they stick you right back in your cell. It wasn’t like he was talking about killing her.

The truth spell had made it glaringly obvious to him that he didn’t want to do that anyway, and hadn’t for a while. Sure, he had some fantasies about biting the hell out of her, but all of those involved her being naked, wiggly, and very much into the biting.

His cock twitched. It’d been half-hard since Buffy had accidently blurted she was thinking about shagging him, and thoughts of biting her weren’t going to make him less aroused. What he needed was a good wank, which the chains didn’t actually keep him from doing, except for the noise.

Not that he cared all that much at the moment who heard.

He closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and poked at his brain, asking for the most arousing fantasy of Buffy that he had. The ruddy spell was an excellent way to learn about yourself.

Predictably, it was one with Buffy fighting him. She was panting, bleeding in a few places, and wearing a tiny skirt and halter top like she’d come from some campus party. He could smell her musky arousal from the excitement of the battle, just like when he’d faced her with the Gem of Amara. In his imagination, she grabbed him and slammed him back against a wall, a stake to his chest.

Yeah, that was the stuff. His cock was filling rapidly, and Spike ignored the clinking of the chains against the tub as he undid his trousers and fisted his prick. In his fantasy, Buffy let the stake fall from her hands before stripping off her top.

God, yes, that was the good stuff.

Spike jumped as the bathroom door opened and Buffy strode in. “What’s all the noise?” she snapped, but she went quiet as her eyes dropped to his prick. They went wide, and her musk was no longer just in his imagination. “I should be very angry or grossed out right now,” she said, catching her lower lip between her teeth.

Spike didn’t stop touching himself, because he didn’t want to, and because social niceties apparently were considered lies by the spell. Red had certainly outdone herself.

Buffy turned, and he expected her to leave, but there was only a quiet click as she locked the door. He gripped himself harder as she stripped off her shirt, following it with her jeans and knickers.

Bloody hell. That was unexpected. And nice. Very nice. “I like your arse,” he told her because it was the truth. Buffy turned around to face him. “I like your titties even more.” His hand sped up. Fuck, he wanted to get off. “I’d love to come all over them.”

Buffy bit her lip, and her hand came up to cradle her breast.

“Play with ‘em,” he encouraged. “I’m not going to last much longer with the scent of you in my nose and the sight of your hands on your tits, but good news is I’m a vampire and can get it back up quickly.” He did a mental eye roll. Terrific, he was trying to woo the bird by telling her he was about to get off.

“Can I watch?” she asked, voice tiny and shy. Her other hand joined the first in touching her breasts, and she rubbed her fingers over her nipples.

“I don’t think that’s what you came in here for.”

She shook her head. “It was mostly because I needed someone who understood that blurting out everything in my head because of a spell doesn’t mean I need a lecture, and a little because I’m attracted to you and like looking at you.” Buffy sighed. “But now I just want to hump you. Why did you have to be jerking off?”

“Because,” he tried and failed to keep his lips closed. “Because you’re gorgeous and knowing I turned you on turned me on and the sodding spell wouldn’t let me pretend I didn’t want a wank.”

“Oh.” She fixed her eyes on him, and her fingers tugged harder at her nipples. “What should I do?”

“Straddle my legs, and you’re welcome to watch.” Shite, this was weird. He entirely didn’t mind her watching him while he polished his knob. To his delight, Buffy climbed into the tub and kneeled, more or less ending up sitting on his legs, he wiggled one over so she could rub her puss against it if she wanted. The sodding chain was a little in the way, stretching from the pipes around one of her hips to his wrists.

“This is hot,” she said, eyes on his prick and hand. “And it’s annoying that with this spell I have to admit that I really want to do this with you.”

“This?” It was an oddly specific fantasy with him wanking in a tub, but whatever.

“Sex stuff!” she said, sounding exasperated. “I’ve never gotten off with another person, and not even very many times with myself.” Her cheeks pinked up in a delicious way, but her words drove an icy stake through his chest.

“That’s…” he growled, and Buffy moaned.

Fancy that.

Spike tried again. “It’s rubbish you’re not getting off more. You’re young, healthy, and capable of vigorous bedroom activity. I would like to help you because it’s a travesty you’re not satisfied at all times.”

“Okay,” she nodded once, and Spike found he no longer minded the spell so much.

“Rub against my leg, to start,” he said. “Do what feels good and look at what feels good.”

After a few awkward motions, she seemed to get the hang of grinding against his leg. Her fingers pinched and plucked at her nipples roughly, and she kept her gaze on his cock. He cupped his balls with his other hand and was rewarded by her licking her lips.

His eyes wandered back to her tits, and he stroked himself faster. The pleasure built and his hips lifted. With a soft grunt, he came, his release spilling over his fist and belly. He sank back against the porcelain to study the Slayer dutifully rubbing against his leg.

She reached out and took one of his hands, raising it to her lips and swiping at the come with her tongue. His eyes went wide. “Buffy?”

“I’ve never seen a guy get off before. It was always...you know…in me.” She made a face, but it relaxed as she returned to cleaning his hand like a kitten. “It kind of tastes good.” Her words were a little mumbled as she spoke around her tongue, but then she paused mid-lick as she canted her hips at a slightly different angle. “Oh.”

She determinedly wiggled against him a few moments longer before coming. The flush of her skin, the tiny muscles tremors, and the scent of her peak were glorious. Utterly amazing.

He was already hard again.

****

Buffy let go of Spike’s hand and put her palms on her thighs as she panted.

Oh, wow, he hadn’t been kidding about not needing long between rounds.

“Yay!” she cheered under her breath.

“Did you just cheer my erection?” he asked, sounding flattered and bemused.

It wasn’t like she could lie. “Yes.” She looked up into his face, then reached out to slide her fingers over his lips. He kissed one and playfully nipped at another while smiling. “I’ve always thought you were handsome.”

“And you’re gorgeous, though what I like best about you is that you can easily kill me.”

“I don’t want to kill you right now.” Not in the least.

Spike turned his head and kissed her palm. “I neither want to be killed or be a killer. I want to make the most fascinating creature I ever met come over and over again because she deserves it.”

Her heart did a funny roll, and she scooted up the tub until her lips were hovering over his. Her fingers fanned out over his chest as she leaned against him, and to her relief, Spike closed the gap between them, kissing her. It was all-consuming. He kissed as if no one else existed in the world beside them. As if all that mattered was her.

As if he loved her.

She sucked on his lower lip as she’d wanted to for a while now, the spell ensuring she couldn’t lie about her desires, and when his tongue begged for entrance to her mouth, she welcomed it. Hers tangled with his, then followed it back between his lips to explore. It was different. She could feel ridges behind his teeth that probably had to do with his fangs. It was exciting to be allowed, and she leaned forward in her mapping, which trapped his erection between them.  

Spike’s hand caressed her hip, his movements limited by the cold chains keeping him in place. “Can you to do the honors?” he said hoarsely, rattling the chains.

“I can.” She reached down and wrapped her hand around his dick. It was rigid, the skin soft over the hardness. She positioned it against the opening to her channel and sank down until she was flush against him.

“Hot,” Spike said and closed his eyes.

“I like that, the temperature difference,” she said, the coolness of him felt good inside her. “But Spike, I don’t know how to move.”

An impossibly blue eye popped back open, then the other. His put his palms on her belly. “I’ll show you.” He guided her, up and down and then into a rolling, rocking motion. When she understood, his hands stilled. “Touch your clit.”

She put her fingers between them, rubbing at herself.

“You feel amazing,” Buffy told him. “No lies, right? I’m full, and you’re hitting just the right spot.” She mewled happily.

“I’d let you dust me after just to know this bliss,” he said, brows drawing together.

She squeezed her inner muscles around him, and his head thunked back against the pericline of the tub. “Do that more.”

“After I come.”

“Fuck...you’re already…come, Buffy.”

Her pleasure crested and she muffled something that might have been a scream by biting her lip. The pleasure was intense, Spike’s cock in her amplifying the bliss. She tasted copper when she started coming back down. She must have bitten herself hard enough to draw blood.

Keeping her frantic pace, she leaned forward and kissed Spike again. His head rose as their lips met, but then he paused. “Buffy?”

“Lick it,” she said, and Spike laughed.

“I’ll lick anything of yours.” His tongue darted over the cut, and when he was done the copper taste was gone, and Spike was boldly lifting his hips to meet her downward pushes. A second orgasm built quickly, and it stole the air from her lungs.

Spike didn’t stop, and her pleasure seemed to spool out endlessly. Panting, she dug her fingers into his chest.

“That’s right,” he gasped. She tried to keep moving with him but was almost boneless. A growl rumbled through his chest right before Spike jerked up sharply in a thrust that almost lifted her off her knees. He came with a harsh grunt. The pulsing of his cock inside her was deeply satisfying, and she was proud of how she’d gotten him off.

Spike held up his bound hands and she ducked under them, settling against his chest as he lowered his arms around her. She probably couldn’t stay that long kneeling in the hard tub, but for now, she didn’t mind. What good was being the Slayer if she couldn’t stand a little discomfort better than anyone else? Cooing soft words, he played with the ends of her hair.

There was a sound outside the door that brought her back to full consciousness. The handle rattled, there were a few muttered words, and Willow walked in. “Buffy, good news! I was…what the heck?”

“Hi, Willow, “ Buffy said, not wanting to move from her Spike pillow. It didn’t matter about the relationship between her and Spike, if that’s what it was, with the spell Buffy knew she would spill the beans in two seconds anyway.

Willow fixed her eyes on the far corner of the bathroom. “Hey, so I just wanted to tell you I’d misread something with the spell and one of the ingredients was in the wrong amount…and, um, anyway, the effects probably only lasted about half an hour at the most. So uh, what’s my hair color?”

“Green,” Buffy said, pushing herself upright and putting an arm over her chest. Spike made a sad little noise.

“Blue,” he said without looking at Willow.

“See? Spell all gone. No lingering after-effects are expected. I’ll, um, tell everyone you’ll be out soon.”

Buffy bowed her head and looked down to where Spike’s cock was still inside her. The last glowy feeling from coming hadn’t even faded. Spike’s expression was grim and resigned. “Get on with it,” he snapped. “Tell me how you can’t touch me. Don’t want me around.”

She couldn’t. He’d turned to her for help when he was at his lowest. She didn’t want him to lose faith in her by denying him that aid. Obviously, she wanted a whole lot more from him than she’d been expecting. This was going to be complicated. And she had the truth of the matter, even if the spell hadn’t lasted that long. Spike hadn’t ranted about being unable to kill. He hadn’t talked about drinking her dry. He’d wanted to get off while thinking about her.

Why did Spike have to be so confusing?

The truth spell would have disappeared about the time she had knelt in the tub. All the ogling, licking, and wanting she’d done hadn’t been a spell anyway. It’d been the truth. Deep down, she truly desired him. She poked Spike’s bellybutton, and he tensed.

“Going to dust me?” he asked, all the fight going out of him.

“No,” she said. “Don’t think so.” She squeezed very gently around his cock with her pussy, and Spike moaned. “You being dust would make it difficult for me to do that.”

“Slayer?”

“Buffy,” she corrected. “I’m going to…I think we should see where this takes us.”

Spike made a soft happy noise. “I promise it’ll take us somewhere good. There’ll be bumps. We’re going to argue. A lot.” It was a half-hearted warning.

“Duh. But then think of what we can do when we’re done arguing.” Her cheeks heated.

“Buffy.” The sound of her name was sweet when he said it his bedroom voice. His lips pursed. “If we’re dating does that mean I can get out of these chains?”

“Maybe.”

****                

Heaven was everything it was cracked up to be. Or at least Buffy excitedly humping his tongue while sitting on his face was heaven enough for Spike.

The Scoobies had been weirded out when he’d walked out of the bathroom, unchained and holding Buffy’s hand. She’d explained in a tone that was much calmer than it should have been about how the spell had shown she and Spike were a thing.

A true thing.

Since the fault lay right on Giles and Willow for that lusty cat being let out of the bag, it was impossible for any of them to argue with either him or Buffy about being together. The blighters managed to find lots of other things to argue over, but Spike couldn’t have cared less. He drove his tongue into Buffy’s slick channel. Having her made everything else a lot easier to deal with.

He was working on beating his record of making her come ten times in a row. Tonight, he was shooting for an even dozen.

No lying.